


The Breaking Light

by Eureka234



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Female De Sardet (GreedFall), I Made Myself Cry, One Shot, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22830709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eureka234/pseuds/Eureka234
Summary: Constantin presents De Sardet with a choice. And she doesn't want that path.Spoilers for the end of Greedfall.
Relationships: De Sardet & Constantin, De Sardet/Vasco (GreedFall)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	The Breaking Light

**Author's Note:**

> AKA De Sardet does a charisma check.
> 
> Here is the ending I was thinking was going to happen, but didn't. Since I hadn't seen this version of an alternate ending yet, I thought I would write it. The tags don't lie.
> 
> The title is named after the Vienna Teng / Alex Wong song from the album Aims. The lyrics fit with Vasco/De Sardet well, though I also thought they were fitting for Constantin. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. I would love to know what you think. It hasn't been beta-d so let me know of any typos/easy fixes.

Embers and ash whirled high into the air from the vortex pulsating from the volcano’s centre. The gust was hot and thick.

Defeating Constantin. The idea echoed so faintly in her mind. Victory was close. Why did it feel like impending failure?

The Nadaig Bano retreated on Constantin’s command. The earth shook as it stomped into the foliage growing beyond where her cousin stood. En on mil frichtimen, the Native's god in the form of a gigantum tree, had finished its piece. Its distress could be felt in the air too. Bronwen felt her hair sticking to her neck. 

"Don't listen to the old god,” Constantin retorted, shaking a hand disapprovingly. “He is like the others, clinging to life." He held out a knife. "All you have to do is bind yourself here with me and we will be gods together, forever!" 

The weapon was not to hurt her. Perhaps she would have to destroy him. Bronwen clutched it tightly.

He held out his hand, like he had guided her onto the ship to New Serene. Back then, his encouragement filled her with a sense of hope. Excitement. Not anymore. 

The smoke burned her nostrils and throat. Bronwen de Sardet surveyed her cousin with despair. His skin and eyes had once been radiant. Now blacked blood vessels pushed to the surface of his skin, his irises a milky white. Horns rose from his skull like the antlers of deer, signifying his connection to the earth. But no man who claimed destroying the earth would renew it could truly hold a spiritual bond. This must be the torment of the malichor. Sickness bred desperation, not true power. 

_I am sorry, Constantin,_ she thought. _I believed so strongly I could save you, but perhaps I cannot._

The En on mil frichtimen had said her cousin had to be stopped. And… maybe she could give him one more chance to join her in a different pursuit of justice.

Inhaling deep, she asked, "Constantin, will you listen to me before I make my choice?” 

“Of course, cousin." He smiled. "After all those torturous hours you’ve spent listening to me, how could I say no?” 

She tucked the knife near her gun holster, to look not threatening.

“I think… you've gotten confused," she explained, gently. "This vision of a new world without political ruses and power games - that is the world I want too. Despite appearances, we are on the same side. But the _en on mil frichtimen_ is right. If I join you, we will only continue the world we hate, one that is slowly dying - just like you were slowly dying. I don't think you can see it since you became very sick.” 

“Don't get me wrong. I see in theory where you are coming from,” Constantin replied, “but only that much. What you’re saying doesn’t make sense. I can see the future more vividly and with more conviction than I could before I got sick.” 

“I know it’s hard to believe. These are the hardest words to say - that I strongly believe you’ve gotten mixed up. I wouldn’t lie to you.” 

“I believe you, cousin, that you’re telling what is most true for you - and I wouldn’t have gone this far in my plan if I didn’t believe just as strongly... that you joining me was right.” 

Silence. This wasn't easy. She couldn't give up.

“I have a compromise,” Bronwen proposed. 

Constantin stepped beside her. “It would be an insult to our work for the Congregation to not listen.” 

“Would you like to bind yourself to me?” The silence screamed as loud as the monster grumbling far away. A gleam brightened in the emptiness of Constantin’s eyes. “I will bring the new world we want without destroying the old one. I will transform it. But for that I need your help. I need the cousin I brought with me to New Serene, _not_ the one I followed here - not who you are now." She poured every ounce of energy she had left into her voice. "Think with all your power, breathe deep into your heart - what would _that_ Constantin do?" 

“I…” Constantin began, looking up towards the flying embers, perhaps thinking about it. He paused. “I would listen to you. You have always known what is best for me, even when - especially when - I can’t see it myself.”

All her muscles loosened in relief. She weakly smiled. The fight wasn't over yet. More pain awaited them. 

"I know it might be difficult to imagine but do you remember my mother?"

"Yes," he breathed the word like he had been recently drowning. "I could never forget her."

"Then you'll remember she had the malichor too. I think she would like to see you do your best to find a cure for the disease. You could use your power to give us the best chance. Return your power to the earth and it can start to heal. The people will recover too."

Constantin's voice box quivered. “Cousin, I trust in your judgement. If you really believe this is the best choice, I will do it. Though… I must plead - do you understand what you are asking?” 

“Yes,” Bronwen said with a sigh. “Should you return your power to the earth, the malichor is very likely to kill you. This could be the last conversation we share."

“Do you really want that?" Constantin demanded, pacing back and forth, clenching his hands into fists. "After everything you have worked for to save me, do you honestly wish for my death - when I do not wish for yours?” 

“I don’t want your death. It breaks my heart to say it. But wouldn’t you prefer to be remembered for your sacrifice - for creating the new world? You are the only one who can. I need you to understand."

"Y-yes. Cousin, I…"

"Yes?"

“There is one problem.” He breathed. "I don't want to die yet."

His voice strained so deeply that Bronwen thought she might cry. She felt tears well up in her eyes, and her throat constrict. "Even if I stay by your side until your last breath?"

"I can’t imagine death. I can't imagine going to death's door without you. Malichor, kidnap or coup d'état, whatever happened to me, I didn't want to be alone."

"What if I brought you there?" Bronwen suggested, outstretching her hand to invite him to her. "Renounce your power. I will give you a respectful burial. I will be with you. You will be remembered for your sacrifice." Her cousin made a noise as though he wanted to say something but didn't. 

"No one is supposed to live forever," she continued. "My mother knew it - and there is wisdom in accepting death, and not extending a body beyond its time."

Constantin covered his face as tears fell. While he restrained any sniffles, De Sardet knew him well enough to understand he was in great pain.

His voice quivered, as he looked back at her. "I feel so afraid, like this isn't right - but cousin… I love you."

"I love you too."

For that second the smoke of the volcano didn't sting her eyes. His love was honest. Suddenly desperate, he hurried over to her and bent his knees slightly, as if to beg.

"I trust your judgement, cousin. I won't let you down or run away ever again. I’m sorry all I did in my life was run. I want to make the right choice this time. I want to stare life in the face, and return it to its source, even if it causes me to die."

He lowered himself onto the ground, and Bronwen joined him. She placed the knife to her side and held onto both of his hands. His skin was clammy. Wet. It didn't matter. "Be brave."

"I am trying."

Constantin took a deep breath. He fixated on the ground. Keeping one hand in hers, he planted his other palm firmly onto the earth. Steadily, he exhaled. The pull of gravity in the volcano changed. Instead of embers and ash being pulled into the crater, it started to spin towards the centre. Bronwen held onto her hat. A whitish glow appeared beneath Constantin’s skin and hands as power transferred. The inside of De Sardet's arm became hot though she wasn't sure exactly what was happening. The sensation was like a vortex, a coil twisting in a cicular motion. 

His eyes faded in colour, returning to a black of the malichor. The light faded and Constantin’s elbows bent, and he rolled onto his side. Their connection broke. De Sardet's arm flashed cold. He sobbed. 

“It’s done,” Constantin breathed. “Do whatever you need to do to create the new world.” He clamped his eyes shut and swallowed. “The pain - it’s back. I have never felt so much of it.” 

Bronwen leaned over and rested one hand on his head, and one on his arm, gripping him firmly. 

"You did it,” Bronwen said. “I have never been so proud of you.” Tears dripped into his hair.

“The pain is excruciating, but my mind is calm,” Constantin explained. He coughed. “It’s funny, in a way. Ever since I became ill… I thought I didn’t want to die without you by my side - not while you were traveling the island trying to save me. Not like your mother.”

Her cousin groaned, unable to shake his lachrymose disposition. 

_He didn’t want me to suffer,_ she thought, staring at him. _Did this justify hurting everyone else?_

No. Of course not. His logic was deranged. Regardless, his confession rang with sincerity. She believed every word. It made perfect sense in her heart. 

Constantin rolled onto his back and met her gaze, speaking gently. “I never forgot how your smile changed upon leaving Serene, and I didn’t want to wish it upon you a second time.” 

“I know,” Bronwen blurted, an unbidden pitch in her voice. She leaned down, wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him towards her as tightly as possible, running a hand through what she could of his hair. Beneath the Congregation suit and silver armour, his body was becoming cold. Her chest constricted, as if her cousin had plunged his knife into her ribs and twisted it. “I’m here now. It’s okay. My mother… would like to see you."

His face close to her ear, her cousin whispered, “This… this is the right choice, isn’t it?” 

“Of course, it is.” 

Silence answered. Bronwen knew why. But she refused to let go. She couldn’t look at him. 

“Constantin, did you hear me?”

Her panic reverberated into the crater and joined the ambience. A prayer. A plea which would be unanswered forever. The direction of the flying ash and embers shifted once again. This time, they floated to the ground, like falling leaves. 

Even with her mother she hadn’t let her fear bleed into her voice. It was different now. No one could hear her. 

She loosened her grip on Constantin’s limp form to gaze upon his expression. It was peaceful. 

“Did it work?” She asked the En on mil frichtimen. 

“Yes, flesh of my land,” came the omnipresent voice from the tree. “The balance is being restored as we speak.” 

“Good.” It was too quiet. “Thank you.” 

_At least he didn’t die for nothing._

But Bronwen still felt like she had lost everything. 

Holding him close once more, she closed her eyes and sobbed into his shoulder. The stabbing in her chest only ached more, and it was like she had swallowed lava. One wave of sorrow crashed into her, then passed, then another one came. This continued for what felt like half an hour at least, making it near impossible to breathe, until she forced herself to gain control of her emotions. 

She lowered Constantin onto his back and used her fingers to close his eyelids. 

"Good night sweet prince,” she told him. 

Taking a moment to appreciate Constantin’s expressionless face, she removed his armour, placed it to one side, positioned one arm behind his knees and the other under his shoulders. Ensuring she was balanced, she lifted him as she stood. 

Time to leave. 

The first step was the most difficult. Her balance threatened to fail. Her head pounded like her boots on the stone. Then every step that followed felt harder. Each inch she crossed sent her thighs screaming for mercy. She had no choice but to keep going. Her vision swam. What Constantin had told her kept repeating itself in her brain, and she recalled how excited he had been to travel by ship to New Serene. How he kept pelting away from important duties out of a thirst for adventure. 

_My foolish, sweet cousin._

New tears fell. Her arms shook. She rested against the walls of the tunnel and her grip faltered. The stone was cold. Like Constantin. Silent. Like Constantin. She refused to let him go. Whenever the tunnel veered left or right, she rested against the turn. Then kept moving. It felt like it took hours. All she could focus on was movement. She squinted as she exited the sacred passageway, afternoon sun bringing enough colour to Constantin’s skin that he looked how he did before the malichor. 

_Where is everyone?_ She thought. _I need… someone to help me._

_Vasco?_

Vision blurring, she couldn’t see anyone in the distance. 

_They must be in camp._

Air was fresher out here. She breathed it in, as if being reborn. The path weaving from the mountain was eerily calm. Her ankles hurt at the top as she adjusted to the downward slope. Carcasses of dead monsters were acrid, though she tried not to breathe through her nose as she passed. She swallowed. Her throat felt as if one of Constantin’s antlers had impaled her. 

_I fear I have lost my voice with you, sweet prince,_ she thought. _But I need to find it again._

The smooth surface of the stone made it more challenging to carry her cousin. Her fingers, covered in sweat, slipped. Dizziness overcame her. 

_If I move much further, I am certain I will fall._

“Vasco!” she cried. “Somebody? I need help!” 

_I’m too tired,_ she thought, as light headedness drained energy from her limbs. She took one step, then two, and lowered to her knees. After some rest, she could keep going. Her cousin’s legs thumped onto the stone. It was blissfully silent. Perhaps the corrupted creatures had ceased attacking. Caressing Constantin’s hair, carefully avoiding his antlers, she stretched her legs. Black and brightly coloured blotches flashed in front of her eyes. Sound began to fade, replaced with a buzzing. The last thing she needed was to faint. A figure was growing larger from a distance. 

“Thank the tides,” exclaimed an all-too-familiar voice. “You’re alive. I’m so grateful, my Tempest. I can’t tell you how worried I was I would never see you again.” 

It was her lover. Thank goodness. 

“Me too,” Bronwen replied, eyes closed. “I’m so pleased you’re safe.” 

“Is it a good time to ask what happened in there?” Vasco asked, gently. 

“Probably not,” Bronwen said. Opening her eyes, she struggled to get back on her feet. She could barely see Vasco behind the multi coloured blotches. 

“Wait a minute there, Legate Bronwen De Sardet,” he commanded from somewhere above her. “You’re not moving another step with that cousin of yours.” 

“What?” she gasped, reaching forward and grasping some part of his trousers. “Why not? I promised to bury him.” 

“I’m not planning to throw his body to some maddened beasts,” Vasco assured her. His voice was nearer, calmer. “I wanted to carry him for you.”

_You don’t want to hurt him?_

“T-thank you,” Bronwen sighed. Somewhat blindly, she leaned forward and pushed her cousin’s body on a tuft of grass. 

“You said you wanted to bury him?” Vasco checked. “Where would that be?” 

“Not here,” Bronwen answered. She tried to stand but her legs were like mud. She stumbled back against her hand on the stone ground. “I need to speak to Siora.” 

“In that case, we have more walking to do first,” Vasco said. His hand touched her shoulder. “Stop there. Let me help you.” 

Even though her world was blurring in front of her, she felt her lover’s warm grip on her waist as he hoisted her up. Gradually, she was able to stand again, but not without help. She leaned against Vasco. 

“Hold yourself steady,” he instructed. “I’m going to pick up Constantin, so there’s going to be some moving around.” 

“Go ahead.” 

She stumbled forward slightly, stretching her arms in front of her as Vasco crouched and stood again - presumably with Constantin. 

“Your Excellency,” Vasco repeated firmly. “Hold onto your cousin like family should!”

She held out an arm, and gingerly gripped onto Constantin’s ankle. Vasco was on her right. She would have laughed at the form of address if she wasn't exhausted. “Sorry, I am close to collapsing.” 

“I can tell,” Vasco said. “You need to focus on what’s in front of you - not me, unfortunately - and walking. Then we will rest. The teams are tending to injuries at camp. The beasts have stopped attacking, finally. I have numerous questions about Constantin, but it can wait. I’ll tell the others not to overwhelm you.” 

“Thank you so much,” Bronwen said. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my Tempest.”

“I do want to tell you about it, but I feel I will cry for an hour for each word.” 

“Then you’ve already got a couple of hours to occupy yourself with,” Vasco said, with an understanding smile. 

She felt she choked on tears. _I helped my dear prince to kill himself. I persuaded him to end his life._

Why was she feeling intense guilt all of a sudden? 

The colour and sharpness were returning to the scenery in front of her. She spotted the soft expression of her lover, and his patience. It was a relief just knowing he was there.

“You’re in shock, my Tempest,” Vasco assured her, as they stepped onto a patch of grass. “It’s normal for someone as lovely and kind as you to feel grief at the dead. No matter what your cousin did, no matter how he died, he was still your family.” 

“I’ll recover,” she said, despite not believing it. “I have to.” 

It was as though her body was trying to do the opposite of what she needed it to do. Hunching over, Bronwen clutched her belly, even as she pushed onwards. It was easier to walk now, yet all this crying was tiring her out.

Silently, Vasco edged nearer, so their arms brushed against each other, even if he couldn’t hold her. “I understand it must be extremely difficult, though you’re doing excellently.” 

"In the sacred place, everything went as well as we could have hoped for,” she choked out. “But I am still disappointed. I think about how happy he used to be and -” 

"It's alright, my Tempest. You don’t have to talk about it until you’re prepared to,” Vasco interrupted. “I know from the quiver in your voice that you did what was right. We can bring Constantin home now."

_Home?_

Something about that wasn’t right either. 

Bronwen gripped onto Vasco’s sleeve. “Before he died, he asked if we were making the right choice,” she said. “I told him ‘yes’, but I’m not sure if he heard me.” 

“For all your tears, Constantin looks peaceful sleeping near you,” Vasco said, his voice tired, yet kind. “Whatever happened in there, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. We will hold a memorial service for him, no matter what method is used to bury him. Now let’s get away from all these fetid dead monsters that tried to kill us. We can worry about the finer points later.” 


End file.
